Friends, Romans, Countrymen...
Readers, Legions, Fans...
Yes, both of you.
I want to apologize for being absent so long. I would like to say I was doing important and noble work, but I basically had my face in a bucket of chicken. Metaphorically. But I have been on a feast of epic proportions. God, everything just tasted so good. I didn't have time to do anything but eat, really.
So, I ate.
Not pork or beef though. I wasn't that much of a sell-out. I stayed true. But I was a glutton for chicken and everything else that I was going to try to avoid in my newfound lifestyle. Like those little chocolate doughnuts that Little Debbie sells. My God, is that even chocolate? I think it might be some form of plastic. But I ate those too until one day I woke up and I just did not feel well. I went to the restroom and...
I had a pimple.
My radiant, glorious skin was just...gone. And in it's place was a zit. Goddammit. Sigh. You see, I have these self destructive urges. I have to push things, test limits, check boundaries. This is one aspect of my personality that I am not so enchanted with.
Especially since in this case all I got for my rebellion was a belly-ache and a pimple.
So, after much debate and denial and rationalization, I finally came to the conclusion that I was clearly not ready for the responsibility of 'real food'. I had come off my fast too early. I hadn't prepared. I was like a fat kid in a doughnut shop--literally. So, today is now my first day back into juice fasting.
God help me, I'm starving. Again. But this time.....I have a secret weapon. I have a buddy! I actually have managed to somehow acquire a partner in fasting. Yep, a friend of mine watched "Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead", bought a juicer, and she started the fast with me. So, God help her too. I think we're going to need a name for her....
I'm going to call her Polly.
And right this minute, I have to say Polly's the only reason I'm not eating a turkey dog with extra mustard and a side of cheese fries. I just can't let her down like that.
So, let's move on. Me and Tomas have still been training on the farm and that's going well. As the little pigs grow, they are less endearing, let me tell you. I could definitely see some prosciutto in my future if they keep up their crazy shit. My God, they are hostile when they are hungry, that's all I have to say. I can see why all those TV shows like Criminal Minds and Law and Order always have pigs eating dead bodies because those little bastards would do it. But despite their aggression, I can still see the little one that stole my heart and that keeps me on the straight and narrow. I'm as pork free as a Jewish Rabbi for now.
So let me tell you about Eli.
Eli is a young calf on the farm. He's a Belted Galloway that is about a year old, which means he's still just a baby on this farm. June and Johnny grass feed their cows, so they develop more slowly and well, naturally than the corn fed monsters the American palate is used to. "Belteds" as J&J call them are shorter and not nearly as huge as some cattle. They don't stand nearly as tall and Eli only comes to my waist or so. He really is just a baby.
So, I was in the pasture and there was Eli. Staring. I held out my hand and he walked right up and sniffed, cautiously. I kept my hand out, lowered my stance so I was more on his level and gave him a blink (it works for my cats). I was trying to establish trust.
And it worked.
Eli sauntered the rest of the way up, gave my hand a nuzzle and sidled right up next to me. He stayed there and proceeded to lick my elbow. He smelled just like milk, for some reason.
I am now head over heels in love with this cow. And so out of love with the slow smoked barbeque brisket that I grew up eating in Kansas City, Missouri.
Because in that moment when Eli returned my gaze, I actually saw when he decided to go ahead and trust me.
And that's just not something I can forget for a hamburger.
Yes, both of you.
I want to apologize for being absent so long. I would like to say I was doing important and noble work, but I basically had my face in a bucket of chicken. Metaphorically. But I have been on a feast of epic proportions. God, everything just tasted so good. I didn't have time to do anything but eat, really.
So, I ate.
Not pork or beef though. I wasn't that much of a sell-out. I stayed true. But I was a glutton for chicken and everything else that I was going to try to avoid in my newfound lifestyle. Like those little chocolate doughnuts that Little Debbie sells. My God, is that even chocolate? I think it might be some form of plastic. But I ate those too until one day I woke up and I just did not feel well. I went to the restroom and...
I had a pimple.
My radiant, glorious skin was just...gone. And in it's place was a zit. Goddammit. Sigh. You see, I have these self destructive urges. I have to push things, test limits, check boundaries. This is one aspect of my personality that I am not so enchanted with.
Especially since in this case all I got for my rebellion was a belly-ache and a pimple.
So, after much debate and denial and rationalization, I finally came to the conclusion that I was clearly not ready for the responsibility of 'real food'. I had come off my fast too early. I hadn't prepared. I was like a fat kid in a doughnut shop--literally. So, today is now my first day back into juice fasting.
God help me, I'm starving. Again. But this time.....I have a secret weapon. I have a buddy! I actually have managed to somehow acquire a partner in fasting. Yep, a friend of mine watched "Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead", bought a juicer, and she started the fast with me. So, God help her too. I think we're going to need a name for her....
I'm going to call her Polly.
And right this minute, I have to say Polly's the only reason I'm not eating a turkey dog with extra mustard and a side of cheese fries. I just can't let her down like that.
So, let's move on. Me and Tomas have still been training on the farm and that's going well. As the little pigs grow, they are less endearing, let me tell you. I could definitely see some prosciutto in my future if they keep up their crazy shit. My God, they are hostile when they are hungry, that's all I have to say. I can see why all those TV shows like Criminal Minds and Law and Order always have pigs eating dead bodies because those little bastards would do it. But despite their aggression, I can still see the little one that stole my heart and that keeps me on the straight and narrow. I'm as pork free as a Jewish Rabbi for now.
So let me tell you about Eli.
Eli is a young calf on the farm. He's a Belted Galloway that is about a year old, which means he's still just a baby on this farm. June and Johnny grass feed their cows, so they develop more slowly and well, naturally than the corn fed monsters the American palate is used to. "Belteds" as J&J call them are shorter and not nearly as huge as some cattle. They don't stand nearly as tall and Eli only comes to my waist or so. He really is just a baby.
So, I was in the pasture and there was Eli. Staring. I held out my hand and he walked right up and sniffed, cautiously. I kept my hand out, lowered my stance so I was more on his level and gave him a blink (it works for my cats). I was trying to establish trust.
And it worked.
Eli sauntered the rest of the way up, gave my hand a nuzzle and sidled right up next to me. He stayed there and proceeded to lick my elbow. He smelled just like milk, for some reason.
I am now head over heels in love with this cow. And so out of love with the slow smoked barbeque brisket that I grew up eating in Kansas City, Missouri.
Because in that moment when Eli returned my gaze, I actually saw when he decided to go ahead and trust me.
And that's just not something I can forget for a hamburger.